


Oaths of the Holy

by LenaBrightRose



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angel/Human Relationships, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Pining, Romance, Secret Identity, Slow Burn, inconsistent use of angel hierarchy, makkachin is a guardian angel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:35:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22526419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenaBrightRose/pseuds/LenaBrightRose
Summary: Cherubim have it rough. Day in day out work work work. Workplace accidents are bound to happen~But Viktor wasn't expecting to be taken down by his own arrows, or to fall so hard and so deep in love for a boy who doesn't know he exists.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Phichit Chulanont/Christophe Giacometti
Kudos: 13
Collections: Yuri!!! on Ice Secret Skater 2019





	Oaths of the Holy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Droewyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Droewyn/gifts).



Viktor’s day  _ had  _ been going phenomenally. He was five people above his daily quota and he had had flown over from Switzerland to the Americas to pick up a few extras from  next week’s lot and he was, overall, feeling pretty good about himself. Then why, one could ask, was he sitting outside of  Yakov’s office under strict orders to not leave until his boss had the chance to talk to him? That had to do with the fact he was a little overzealous, and had chosen to do more than his share with a quick detour to Detroit to get his 25 th target, a young Japanese man by the name of  Katsuki Yuuri. He was supposed to be a super easy mark, on account of the fact his future partner was his roommate, but how was Viktor supposed to know that the roommate was back in his home country on vacation?

He straightened up as he heard the familiar clomping footfalls, and  Yakov wheeled around the corner like a charging bull. “VIKTORRRR,” he roared and Viktor had the good sense to look meek and look at the floor as  Yakov stormed past him, opening the door to his office. “In.  _ Now. _ ” he snarled, and Viktor slunk in, wincing a little as  Yakov slammed the door behind him. “Care to explain what  _ this _ is?” He slammed Viktor’s record book down on the table, fingers flicking once and the worn pages flipping to the latest entry, and there it was, clear as day. Twenty-five entries in Viktor’s fairly legible writing all signed with his golden blood in his clear flourishing signature. Viktor looked at it for what he thought was an appropriate amount of time, but  Yakov wasn’t taking that bullshit. 

The slam of the book made him wince, and he cautiously looked up to  Yakov’s bright red face. “To be fair,” he said quietly. “I didn’t think that it would be that big of a deal...”

His attempts to sweet talk got him nowhere, and Yakov’s eyes narrowed.

“Not that big of a deal? What is the first rule of cherubim, Viktor, what is it?” Viktor muttered the answer but that wasn’t enough. When  Yakov slammed his hand down on the table Viktor huffed, but cooperated. 

“Never leave a pair unmatched,” he whispered in the face of the glower. 

“You’re going to fix this. Tonight. Take Chris with you.” The air of finality broached no argument yet Viktor’s brow knit and he still questioned. 

“Wait, why? Why do I need to bring Chris with me?” He asked petulantly—a habit that had remained unbroken through his youth—and Yakov’s lips thinned out even more, if that were possible. 

“Because he trained you. Like it or not both of you are responsible for this. And you are going to get his comeuppance as well. I’m sure he has a lot to say to you.”

Turned out that Chris really didn’t have much to say to Viktor at all when Viktor was finished with his chewing out. Chris paced the hallway outside of  Yakov’s , skirt swishing with the movements and newly awarded sash flowing over his shoulders like a ripple of water. He looked stressed. Viktor had counseled him that responsibility never made a fun angel, but it had meant a lot to Chris to get that promotion. Viktor was afraid that he might be the cause of its fall through. Chris seemed to be afraid of that too because when Viktor stepped through the door, not bothering with even opening the damn thing, Chris immediately gave the most petulant of sighs and scowled, shutting his own ledger. 

As if things couldn’t get any worse the glare that Chris was spearing him with promised only grief and destruction, and Viktor looked down. This was going to be a long, long, long night if Viktor couldn’t win him over with a smile and tempting offer. Chilly silence before Yakov appeared behind Viktor, pushing him out of the way of the door. 

“You both will go and finish before the night’s over or in His name I swear you will be spending the next hundred years behind a desk!” An unfair amount of rage was directed at Chris, Viktor thought. Mostly because that anger would eventually be redirected back at Viktor in a sharper, more calculated way. Chris nodded and bowed to Yakov, spinning on his heel without acknowledging Viktor. Like the dutiful pupil he wanted to show he was, Viktor followed after. Chris was already halfway down the hallway before Viktor made it to where Chris had been standing before, and Viktor had to jog to catch up with him. 

“Hey look, I’m sorry you’re getting dragged into  thi —” he started, reaching out to touch Chris on the shoulder, but Chris looked at him with flaring eyes and zip, faster than light, Viktor was right back outside of  Yakov’s office and Chris was striding away through the double doors. Oh great. Chris was a bit... trigger happy with his quirk, which meant that if Viktor didn’t watch his mouth Chris might just teleport him out of the moving car and into the autobahn. 

Painful was an understatement. Chris seemed to be intent on making Viktor suffer as he cranked up the music, refusing to talk to Viktor at all. Even though the laws of reality hardly applied to angels, it felt like forever before Chris was screeching to a halt in a nice neighborhood a  ways outside of Bangkok, sighing as he turned to Viktor. “Can you handle it from here or do you need me to hold your hand for this too,” he said huffily, as if his displeasure wasn’t apparent enough. Viktor rolled his eyes but shook his head. 

“I can handle it if you want, but the company will probably be better inside?” Viktor ventured with a wink and a hesitant cheeky smile, getting out of the car slowly. Chris stared at him for a long moment in disbelief but no sooner had Viktor turned away he heard a soft curse and grinned as Chris appeared at his side, still huffy but in a better mood now that a casual pick me up was promised. Generally, Viktor picked a time when his target was out and about—sticking someone with cupid’s arrow was a lot easier when they were alone—but it was almost midnight in Bangkok, and though the city never seemed to sleep the suburbs sure did. Viktor didn’t believe in luck, but fortune was his bitch. There was a vacated apartment building across the street from the  Chulanont household, and Viktor headed straight for it. Chris sputtered behind him at the choice of lookouts, preferring at least a hotel for a casual hook up, but Viktor knew he would take what Viktor could give. After all, Seraphim didn’t have the luxury of much time off compared to cupids; it came with the territory and responsibility as well as the prestige. Chris’s withdrawals from the power of Eros that came with finishing each successful pairing as a cherub was hitting him hard and he was ravenous for any touch, so Viktor hadn’t counted on a refusal anyways.

Hot and heavy was their specialty, never taking long to get as close as they wanted—needed—to be, and Viktor giggled, stroking away the hair that clung to Chris’s sweaty brow when the seraphim was left a shivering mess in Viktor’s grip. “My, my, we should put you in skirts more often,” he quipped, palming Chris’s thigh and making the seraph flush and huff, tugging the chiffon down. 

“Shut up,” he said self-consciously as he tried to unseat Viktor’s  steady hand but Viktor just tugged him closer into his lap, cheekily grinning. 

“No, I like it. It suits you.” Chris huffed but Viktor knew if he really cared he would just teleport away. He spent a few more moments making sure that Chris’s previous anger was mostly dissipated before sliding him gently off of his lap, buttoning his pants as Chris adjusted his uniform and hair. 

“See, if you hadn’t asked for a booty call you could’ve been done by now,” Chris sniffed, settling down to a seat on an upturned beer crate after brushing the top off. “This is all your fault,” Chris puffed. “If you had checked first, we wouldn’t be trapped in a condemned apartment building with the rats.” He looked pointedly at the man lying on the mat near the doorstep. He couldn’t hear or see Chris and Viktor, whether that was from his evident drugged state of mind or the angel shielding, but Viktor hazarded a guess that if he hadn’t roused to see the two angels in the throes of sex he wasn’t going to rouse for much else.

“You’re just upset you can’t sit on my dick while I work,” Viktor shot back, chuckling, but settled down on his haunches on the other side of the window, pulled his standard issue collapsible bow from his pocket, the quiver strapped to his back filled with iridescent golden arrows flickering into view as he stopped concentrating on keeping it hidden. He shifted slightly resting his hand on the windowsill to steady himself, setting his sights through the windows of the Chulanont household, pulling one of the glimmering arrows and notching it on the string. He saw people passing back and forth behind the lit-up windows, an old man, a few younger women, all looking young enough that Viktor wasn’t sure if there was a mother of the house, and two young men. His mark was the youngest of the siblings, only one who had been out of Thailand, and his mannerism screamed that. He was kind of cute actually, him and the Japanese boy would make a good match. Once he actually did his job. 

“Which one is it?” Chris asked quietly, cocking his head as he looked curiously.

“I need to focus,” Viktor said irritably in lieu of an answer, but Chris wasn’t having that shit. 

“Which one? The tall one? He’s cute. Actually, I like the short one more. Shit they’re all so tiny.”

“Can you stop,” he said testily, and Chris shook his head. 

“No, if you drag me all the way out here, I’m going to ogle all I want and annoy you. Tell me who’s the mark.”

“It’s  Phichit , the short, slim guy.” 

“Damn he’s cute. Too bad. I would’ve banged him before we left.”

“Shut the hell up.”

“Don’t say naughty words.”

Viktor spun on him, lowering his bow and relaxing his hold. “Can you stop? You are being distracting and I won’t-”

He didn’t get any further than that, a sharp pain in his thigh making him gasp and Chris’s jaw dropped, green eyes comically wide. The arrow that had been firmly grasped in his hand flickered and disintegrated into thin air but the damage was done. He stared down at  the rip in his jeans, and the trickle of shimmering, amber blood that dripped lazily down the size of his thigh. 

“Oh fuck.” 


End file.
